19
When sober, sae sour, ye'll fight wi' a flee,
That 'tis a blythe sight to the bairnies and me;
When todlin hame, todlin hame,
When round as a neep you come todlin hame.
My Native Caledonia.
Sair, sair was my heart, when I parted frae my Jean,
And sair, sair I sigh'd, while the tears stood in my
e'en,
For my daddy is but poor, an' my fortune is sae sma',
It gars me leave my native Caledonia.
When I think on the days now gane, and sae happy
I ha'e been,
While wand'ring wi' my dearie where the primrose
blaws unseen,
I'm wae to leave my lassie, an' my daddy's cot ava,
Or to leave the healthful braes of Caledonia.
But wherever I wander, still happy be my Jean,
Nae care disturb her bosom, where peace has ever
been,
Then tho' ills on ills befa' me, for her I'll bear
them a',
Tho' aft I'll heave a sigh for Caledonia.
